


Sunday Afternoon

by pintsandguitars



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, Barista!Niall, Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, i dont even know why i couldn't help it k, writer!zayn, ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pintsandguitars/pseuds/pintsandguitars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn wants to write a poem about a beautiful barista named Niall, but he just can't find the words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I was at a coffee shop. It was a Sunday. It was sunny. I don't know.
> 
> I really like comments. Like a lot. They make my heart flutter as much as Zayn's heart flutters for Niall. I reply to pretty much all of them because if someone cares enough to even type out a few words, that means more to me than you will ever know. Thank you and enjoy!! <3

 

_INSPIRED BY[x](http://www.pinterest.com/pin/38280665556367812/)                 _

 

 _~~Maybe~~_ ~~_it's the glint of innocence in his eyes_ ~~

  
  
_~~His~~_ ~~_~~sm~~ ile could be compared to the sun _ ~~

 

~~_He's got a cute, freckled nose that_ ~~

 

That's what Zayn's page looked like at the moment. Nothing seemed right, no words were appropriate. This was an uncanny experience for Zayn.

  
He was a quiet lad, sure. But that's because he spoke with his pen and paper. What he couldn't say, he wrote. Words never failed him. Until now.

  
  
Sighing, he began a new sentence, scratching that one out as well because it didn't work. It didn't fit. Nothing fit.

  
  
Nothing could exactly describe the bright blueness of his eyes. Nothing could quite capture the warmth of his smile. Nothing could quite define the innocence of his laugh.

  
Putting his pen down, Zayn decides to steal another look at his subject. The source of his speechlessness. The reason for his bewilderment.

  
  
He was wiping away at a table, his golden hair falling over his eyes in the most endearing way. Zayn lets out a deep sigh, completely aware of how deep his infatuation with this boy was.  
  
Niall.  
  
That was his name. Not that Zayn had dared to ask. In fact, he'd barely had enough courage to choke out his coffee order, let alone carry a conversation. No, this boy's name was revealed on the nametag pinned to his chest. "Niall H", it said in scrawly writing. It made Zayn smile that he'd bothered adding the "H" to it. He didn't know very many Nialls.  
  
Picking up his pen, he tried once again.

  
  
 _He was beautiful. So beautiful that not one word from English language held enough power to capture his essence._

  
  
Putting down his pen, he decides that will have to do for now. Peering over at his coffee cup, he realizes it's empty. His eyes flit around for another barista, anyone except--  
  
"Hi!" Niall calls to him, "Would you like another cuppa?"  
  
Caught off guard, Zayn heart starts racing and he forgets how to talk. Instead, he opts for a nod, praying that Niall doesn't question his intelligence.  
  
Offering him a wide grin that makes Zayn weak at his knees, Niall shuffles back to behind the counter.  
  
As the pale boy is walking back toward Zayn holding a pot of coffee, the sun pouring through one of the windows hits Niall, lighting up his small frame. Zayn feels his mouth drop open and he swears that at this moment, Niall is actually _glowing_.  
  
With this, Zayns minds drifts to a thought. The image of a warm Sunday afternoon plays across his eyes. He is deeply engrossed in a book, as usual, but what's new is head of golden hair he is holding in his lap.  
  
Niall's eyes are closed, but he is humming along to the song that's playing through his headphones.  
  
They're in a room which has big windows, the kind that make everything seem extra bright and cheerful. Just like Niall.  
  
It's a warm Sunday afternoon, the sun shining bright. And as Zayn looks to the boy in his lap, the boy is shining bright too, fully bathing in the suns glow. Zayn can just make out the layer of light brown hair that dusts the pale skin underneath. He smiles because it's nice. This is nice.  
  
But then a cheerful voice twinged with an Irish accent shatters his trance."Something on my face?" Niall is standing in front of him, a wide grin claiming the entire bottom of his face.  
  
"Huh?" seems to be the witty response Zayn's brain has.  
  
"You were just, uhm, kind of staring. So I thought I had something of my face," he says, very much amused at Zayn's indiscretion.  
  
"Oh. Sorry, I-I didn't mean to" he apologizes lamely. He looks at Niall expectantly, waiting for apology to be accepted. But the blond boy doesn't say anything. He just looks down at Zayn, head slight cocked, eyes full of curiosity.  
  
Zayn shifts uncomfortably under this strange boy's gaze, feeling somehow exposed. Niall's eyes looked deep into his, threatning to bring every one of Zayn's secrets to light.  

Finally, he speaks. "What's in there?" He nods toward Zayn's black notebook. The one in which Zayn had been scratching away at, trying to encase Niall in words.   
  
"Entries." Zayn vaguely tells him. He's not trying to be ambiguous, he's really not. To be honest, he's not even sure what they really are. He just, sort of, writes. No form, no discipline. Just words.  
  
"Like a diary?" Niall investigates further.  
  
Zayn feels his cheeks grow warm and hastes to defend himself. "Nonono. Uhm, they're just writing pieces, I guess."  
  
This seems to intrigue Niall, although Zayn has no idea why. He moves closer to Zayn, trying to peek at the so-called "pieces" and Zayn instinctively closes his book.  
  
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude..." Niall says apologetically. A small frown appears on his face an Zayn hates himself for doing that.  
  
"No, it's no intrusion! It's just not very good, and I would be embarrassed," Zayn admits, not wanting to upset this joyful boy. Thank fully, this seems to do the trick because Niall's face settles into its usual grin.  
  
He pours Zayn his coffee and places the pot down. Then, Niall rests his right hand on the table, slightly leaning into it,showing that he's not yet ready to leave. Zayn finds a small smile forming on his face.  
  
"Well, you should keep that book safe. I have a feeling that whatever is in it is going to be very famous one day." And then he winks. He fucking _winks_. Zayn's cheeks grow hot and he sputters at this boy's forwardness. A warm feeling spreads across his stomach, and he feels the smile on his face grow bigger.  
  
"Oh. Uhm--aha, okay." Zayn manages, still recovering from Niall's compliment.  
  
"So you're a writer then?" Niall asks.  
  
"Uhm, sort of?" Zayn answers, and Niall gives him a skeptical look. "Well, I write, that is what I do. But I haven't gotten anything published yet," he explains further in an attempt to salvage the conversation. He doesn't want Niall to think he's mentally incapable. "Actually, that's a lie. I did write a rather riveting article for my school about the dangers of street crossing in year seven."  
  
And for some reason, Zayn's lame attempt at a joke gets Niall laughing so hard he has to sit down. But maybe that was just an excuse.  
  
"I'm sure it was very hard hitting!" Niall teases and Zayn finds himself catching the infectious laugh.  
  
"You know me, I won't back down from a controversy!" Zayn responds, enjoying this way too much. But at this comment, Niall's laughter ceases and he wonders if he'd said the wrong thing.  
  
"Actually, I don't know you. I'd like to though. Get to know you that is." Niall says, blushing in the most endearing way. Zayn's stomach flips and the grin on his face grows even bigger, almost hurting at this point.  
  
In a moment of sudden boldness, which he has no idea how it came about, he makes a reach for Niall's hand, covering it with his. Niall looks up at him in surprise and Zayn says, "I'd like to get to know you, too."  
  
At this, Niall bites his lip, offering Zayn a timid smile and-- _oh_ , Zayn's pretty sure he's in love.  
  
\--  
  
Leaving the coffee shop with another cuppa and Niall's phone number scribbled into his notebook, Zayn cannot seem to stop smiling.  
  
As he gets into his car, he flips open his notebook to make sure it wasn't a dream. When he sees Niall's familiar scrawl which makes up the number written on the top right corner of his page, he feels like blasting "Walking on Sunshine" and dancing the day away.  
  
He thinks of the poem he'd been trying to write and decided that he doesn't need a poem when he's got the real thing.  
  
\--  
  
 _ **(Few months later)**_  
  
It's a Sunday and Zayn is engrossed in a copy of _Atlas Shrugged._

He looks down in his lap and resting on it is Niall's blonde head. He's humming along to a song playing from his iPod, bopping his head to the beat.

It's a warm day, the sun pouring in through the windows. Zayn looks at the Irish boy in his lap, the sun illuminating his skin and revealing the layer of soft brown hair covering his arms.

Zayn smiles to himself, because it's nice. This is nice. And this time, it's not just a dream. 

 --

 

Follow me on [Tumblr](http://fckziallfck.tumblr.com/)! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave feedback, it really helps!! <3 Love yous. 
> 
> \--B


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